Taking care of the little one

because God takes care of us

(Mk 18:1-14)

One question from the disciples brings a lengthy response from Jesus, the fourth of five that Matthew gives us (Mt 18:2-35; cf. 5:1-7,29; 10:5-11:1; 13:1-52; 24:1-25,46). It is the only time we have a discourse from Jesus which is the result of his disciples (Mt 18:1): so the discourse on fraternal life is not, then, an instruction which Jesus wanted to give, but a teaching provoked by his disciples. This detail is not an indifferent one: how to live in community is a concern of theirs.

There are three quite distinct literary units we can identify in it. All three require a pastoral praxis amongst brothers, always motivated by the Father's will (Mt 18.10.14.39): the pastoral care of the little one (Mt 18.1-14), correction of the offender (Mt 18.15-20) and forgiving a brother (Mt 18.21-39). We will limit our reflection to the first of these (Mt 18.1-14) which controls already existing community relationships. So it does not speak of how community life comes into being [being with Jesus and listening to the Word of God!], but how it must be lived.

1.The biblical text

Those whom the discourse is addressed to are "the disciples who approach Jesus"; they are the ones who ask him: "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" (Mt 18.1). In his response Jesus distances himself even more from the initial concern, which is more a pretext than the topic of the discourse. What Jesus offers are, therefore, norms for community life, attitudes that everyone living in community should practise, independently of the functions they exercise. This way he traces out the radical attitude and concrete behaviour of someone who is to be amongst the disciples of Christ living with him daily.

Introduced by the question as to who is the greatest in the kingdom, the text has the child and the little one in the community as its recurring motif. At the beginning, the child is a concrete individual (Mt 18.2) who is to be imitated, welcomed and not scandalised (Mt 18.3-5); the child then ends up being the ideal image of the disciple.

In the first scene (Mt 18.1-5) the child is presented as a condition for entering the kingdom and as a criterion for accepting Christ. Replying to his disciples' question (Mt 18:1), Jesus offers three important sentences (Mt 18:3-5) which, introduced with an emphatic I tell you solemnly are focused on the child, both as a real individual (Mt 18.2) and as an ideal figure (Mt 18.3.4.5).

In Mt 18.6-9 the discourse brusquely changes topic and tone: from becoming like children it shifts to the scandal of the little believer, from exhortation to warning. The text is not homogeneous. There are three statements with a proverbial tone to them (Mt 18:6.8.9: "It would be better") which warn against scandalising the little ones. While admitting that scandal is inevitable, it does not save the one who causes it (Mt 18.7). The malice of the scandal is measured on the base of the loss that is caused (Mt 18.8-9).

2.Some highlights

A concern that honours the disciple (Mt 18.1)

The disciples' question which opens Jesus' discourse is neither naive nor out of place: being great in Gods' sight was the supreme desire of any believer. The disciples are not discussing who is the greatest amongst themselves; they want to know who will be considered greatest by God in his kingdom. those whoa re asking are not thinking of themselves; their concern, far from pointing to self-interest, selfishness, is cleanly spiritual: they are interested not in honours or hierarchical primacy in the community, but in the ultimate greatness according to God's salvific plan.

The disciple seeks only to know the order that will obtain where and when God reigns. The community of disciples is not yet the kingdom of God, but it is called to be this; its way of living is – or rather should be – a model and anticipation of how one should live in the kingdom. Without finding themselves in the kingdom just yet, the disciples would like to live according to its norms from now on.

Being concerned about God and his sovereignty, and given where they are at this point along the journey, where they still feel the lack of it, does honour to the disciples. A community that lives by ignoring God and where his kingdom does not matter does not allow Christ to teach it, and ceases to be his disciple. To return to the school of Christ requires that we return to being interested in things that do not pass away, things that have a future: God and his kingdom.

The child as the measure of greatness (Mt 18.2-4)

Jesus begins his reply with a symbolic action, placing a child at the centre (Mt 18.2). The gesture precedes his words but establishes their meaning in anticipation (Mt 18.3-4): The child, still too small to belong to the adult world, is the prototype of the greatest in the kingdom of God. The scene is already in itself an eloquent image of the kingdom of God, a real statement of what its preferences are.

Jesus then continues to explain his action authentically. But despite this his words do not correspond well to the question from his disciples, which was of a more generic nature. The instruction Jesus gives is not generic. Those who were asking took for granted their entrance into the kingdom, given that they wanted to know who would be the greatest there. Jesus corrects them when he answers that before thinking about being great in the kingdom, one needs to be worthy of entering. And whoever does not convert himself to being like this little child will not enter.

A condition for arriving at and having God as king, the expression "changing and becoming like a little child" demands radical change, not just of behaviour, but also in one's fundamental direction in life. Changing means a complete about turn, going back over the path already covered, abandoning, stepping back from the actual way of being, leaving behind what one has already become. It is more a case of getting things moving than an operation to be carried out once and for all (cf. Jn 3:4-5). This return is made concrete by becoming like a child, and when we say this of an adult, it implies that one behaves as if one were not such, behave as if one were a little one.

The child, in this case the goal for adult behaviour, is not humble per se, nor does the child usually renounce his rights in a conscious way. The child is not presented as an ideal for life, nor some kind of nostalgia for the past. It is not a paradigm of innocence, or simplicity, and it makes no allusion to the absence of sin; but it is a model of life without pretence, and socially insignificant. The child is not always generous or easily guided, but does live in dependence, and needs an adult's help. For an adult to become a child, he or she has to renounce their independence and self-sufficiency, allow themselves to be cared for. Being like a child also supposes the need for protection from everyone else, knowing that one needs to be looked after in everything: it means stripping oneself of adult security and accepting that one is defencelessness and insignificant like an infant. Conversion of this kind is not an asceticism of self-abasement nor is it an exercise of blind submission; for the Christians it means concrete service of God and/or one's neighbour (Mt 23:12; Lk 14:11; 18:14; 2 Cor 11:7; 12:21).

But, and this is the most surprising aspect, the one who succeeds in becoming like the child will not enter the kingdom of heaven like just one of many, but will be the greatest of all. The disciple who has the child as his goal for conversion, rejects setting himself up for office, flees honour, sees himself as small and needy, weak and maybe undervalued, is happy with what he has and is grateful for whatever they give him. The disciple who wants to be a citizen of the kingdom must see himself before God as a little one in need of care, no matter how great he has become, in constant development and in continual dependence, although really being and adult.

The kingdom of God is the patrimony of those who still recognise themselves as small and immature despite being grown up and mature. This reversal of values could not be greater, or more radical nor less evident: someone in need of everything, since he depends on everyone else, someone who is lower than everyone else, will be the greatest in everyone's eyes when God reigns. The law which governs God's behaviour as king requires a radical change in the behaviour of someone who dreams of being his subject

Jesus' behaviour when he chooses the child to represent 'the greatest' in the kingdom, questions the untouchable social values and also entrenched ecclesial habits. And nor can we say that it is the law which today governs our community life. Well then, becoming someone without importance is the conversion that Jesus demands of someone who wants to be very important for God.

The little one, object of attention(Mt 18:5)

After inviting them to become like little children, Jesus urges his disciples to welcome the child (Mt 18:2). Now the child is no longer someone to imitate but the object of welcome and hospitality. Matthew, following Mark (Mk 9:37), urges them to take care of the children who, in community, need their help, and are more exposed to being despised; their weakness and insignificance makes them worthy of greater care. It is a case, then, of accepting all who, in the community, have humbled themselves and become like children, become defenceless and who can easily be the object of little consideration and abuse.

The disciple who makes himself "like" a child distances himself from the adult world. The little one easily becomes prey for the great, the shrewd ones. In the Christian community instead, the child is to be the object of greater care and better attention. Now, the concern for the child must have Jesus himself as its motive, because it is "in hsi name", that is because of Him that they have to be accepted, made welcome. The one who has most need of help is the one who best represents Him (cf. Lk 22:27). The identification is real, mysterious though it may be: it is more decisive, and it is Jesus' choice – therefore an obligation for the believer. The most insignificant represent the Lord (cf. Jn 13:20), The child is God's lieutenant [note: in the sense of the original - taking his place] (cf. Mt 25:35-40).

Also, the disciple who lowers himself and is in need of others offers his community a chance to receive the care of its Lord, and to care for him. A community that offers protection and shelter not so much to children but to disciples who have no one to protect them, is welcoming God. Since we know that in the disciple-as-child Jesus Christ is hidden and we know that our attention to the "little one" is the measure of our conversion to Christ. Until there are disciples in need of respect and care, the community cannot really feel saved (cf. Mt 25:40-45).

Be careful not to scandalise! (Mt 18:6-7)

Jesus takes advantage of having a child in the midst of his disciples to point out a new task for them: amongst his disciples, the one who is less able and has greater need must be given greater attention. In this context, a serious warning suddenly appears.

Scandal is a reality they have to deal with daily in Matthew's community. And the ones who suffer most are the most defenceless amongst the believers. Scandalising means impeding, blocking the path, leading astray. Matthew identifies the little one as being Christian. With the formula “one of these little ones who have faith in me” he is alluding to Christians whose faith/faithfulness is not yet so resistant to trial.

Jesus now is defending those who are easy prey to scandal, who are defenceless or weak in the community. Here ‘scandal’ refers to any obstacle placed before someone who believes in Christ but is weak and insignificant. It alludes then to whatever leads to loss of faith and results in separation from God. Whoever has entrusted himself to Christ has Him as his best advocate: becoming small does not mean being left at the mercy of one's brothers. Whoever causes a problem for his brother will have Christ against him. And how!

Jesus in person has imagined the worst destiny for whoever endangers the faith of the weak. Being thrown into the sea with something heavy round your neck was a cruel punishment; and if that weight is something that needs an ass to pull it, more than even a man alone could pull, then no escape was possible. The image as it is formulated is even stronger; it suggests a millstone be put around the neck of the one who causes scandal. Drowning of this kind, although formulated as a simple possibility, evokes the greatest cruelty: as well as having no earthly grave to lie in, the individual would obviously sink to where no one can ever go (cf. Ap 18:21; Jer 51:63-64), where there is no salvation.

Jesus' sentence takes on a prophetic tone in the repeated "Woe to...!". This way the seriousness of the warning is increased, addressed to the world where scandal takes place and to the one who causes it. Scandal arises where a brother can lose his faith due to the obstacle put there by his brother, when the weak person falls before (faced with) or – worse still but no less frequent – beneath the power of the more important, more powerful brother. Even if it is only a warning, the threat has to be taken seriously: such a terrible outcome is evidence of the seriousness of the offence. The scandaliser will have the worst fate, his ultimate destiny would be to be unable to save himself, nor find anyone to save him.

And we can shudder when we note, as displeasing as it is, that Jesus cannot avoid scandal happening. He himself even recognises that it will happen: there is evil in the world, in the community, like the darnel in the sowed field (Mt 13:24-30.36-43), hidden but effective, latent and present everywhere. This is a surprising statement for what it presupposes: the world is in turmoil, perverted by scandals. Satan's rule is evident (Mt 13:28.41-42). Jesus is not reflecting a pessimistic view of the world but speaks out of what has touched him personally, and he is pastorally concerned about the undeniable power of evil. Furthermore he continues by stating what is incomprehensible, almost intolerable: scandals are not only inevitable, they are necessary!

We are struck by the fact that he does not give a reason for why scandal is necessary, but simply affirms it (Mt 24:10). Perhaps he supposed that until good's ultimate triumph, evil must continue unvanquished and scandals would be inevitable. But even less acceptable, the fact that scandals are necessary does not mean that the one who causes them is without fault. The unfortunate one is not the world, due to scandals, but the one who is their cause, the instrument. There is a Judas in whoever causes scandal to his brother, the traitor disciple: since whoever puts obstacles before the brother who is weak makes Christ's death useless (cf. 1 Cor 8:9-13).

Urging them to avoid scandal, Jesus invites the one who is tempted to accept responsibility. The one who trips up does not always fall: temptation provides room for freedom. The trial never cores us into sin: evil is either willed or not avoided. If the believer lives in a world of scandals, he is called to prove his faithfulness, to choose what is good. Matthew's Jesus insists, therefore, on the need for trial and the responsibility of the one who causes it. He takes evil for granted and its real power over a community: a community that knows evil and its necessity must avoid scandal.

Better to amputate something than let it be a cause of scandal (Mt 18:8-9)

From scandal coming from outside, he then shifts to scandal from the person himself. It is no longer the environment that is hostile or which seduces the brother, but now the enemy is the person himself, or better, a part of him hands, eyes etc). The struggle becomes more personal, the test divides the individual. The individual himself can be the agent and the victim of scandal. Evil's activity is limited to the body, but the reaction is to be more radical, immediate amputation. Different from Mt 5:29-30, the scandal here is not to be reduced simply to something of a sexual nature. It is something more radical. Whatever external thing caused by the hand, or whatever internal perception resulting from the eye, puts the person in difficulty, means that that hand or eye can be eliminated. Freeing oneself from what is the cause of one's sin can even lead to rejecting parts of one's body!

Although amputation was practised then and similar sayings have been noted in antiquity, the sentence is not to be understood literally. Its power comes from hyperbole, the brutality of the image. This is not about self-mutilation, but about the need to renounce what is precious and maybe irreparable afterwards. But the fact that it is an exaggeration does not mean it has to be interpreted symbolically: these are important parts of the body that are being spoken about. Jesus is not demanding that we separate ourselves, even traumatically if it be the case, from what leads us into evil. Rather is he trying to convince us to alienate what there is in us – of us – which questions our faithfulness to God.

It is better to lose a part of us one day that everything forever. The logic is clear. If life or death of everything is at stake, in other words ultimate things, then the survival of just one part is of little use. Everything that is an obstacle to eternal life must be eliminated, without regard and without delay. Without future life being assured, there is no use keeping the members of our body, no matter how vital they may seem: of what value is it to preserve organs that could lead us to lose eternal life?

The community he is demanding this radical approach of has experienced evil in its midst (cf. Mt 13:36-43.49-50). While already experiencing salvation, it is not free of scandal or sin. Because we are exposed to evil does not mean we have to give in to it, being threatened by sin is not the same as resigning ourselves to it. But not succumbing to it can be require costly, demanding, painful amputations . Are we ready to tackle them?

Look after the little ones like God the shepherd (Mt 10:10-14)

Again, without any logical connection, he shifts from warning against scandal to warning against despising the little ones (Mt 18:10). The warning is motivated by a parable which we consider as being the ipsissima verba Iesu (Mt 18:12-14; Lk 15:3-7). Different from Luke (Lk 15:1-2), the parable in Mt is not addressed to Jesus' critics, but to his disciples.

The number of sheep, a hundred, serves to highlight, given the 99/1, the only one missing but despite that, the shepherd's concern. This is not a rich shepherd, but one who does not want to be poorer. The lost sheep is one that is not yet fully lost, but runs the risk of being so; so there is no reason to consider it already lost.

Matthew, who is familiar with the image of God as Shepherd (cf. Jer 27:6; Ez 34:4.13.16), speaks of the extraordinary concern that the lost sheep receives from the shepherd. It is not that the shepherd does not have as much concern for the ninety-nine as he does for the lost one. The case is that he is looking only for the lost one, whichever it may be. The God-shepherd is more concerned with finding the lost one than looking after those who are left.

The master is concerned about what has been lost; and what is found again he rejoices over. This is the central message of the account. The tension between the number not lost and therefore which he does not go looking for, and the one that is lost, highlights this more, if that is possible. The weak one who is lost receives the greatest attention. But the transformation of what is spoken of in parables happens in the shepherd, not in the sheep or the flock. Jesus takes for granted that the search does not always have a positive outcome and he highlights the shepherd's initiative which has the good fortune to find his sheep ("if he finds it").

Taking care of the needy is the Father's task. The one who appreciates and keeps his little brother alive and witnesses to the fatherly solicitude of God the good shepherd, does not allow something which belongs to him to be lost. Like the sheep, the prodigal son has his return home assured, just so long as God values him as part of his own property. The shepherd seeks the lost sheep because he was aware of its absence, and this is because he was interested in it. No one should be lost in a Christian community without being sought out until he is found. A community that loses its brothers must lose the joy of being a community. What is wonderful though is that all the brothers can rely on one who will not be vanquished, God and the one who represents him, not even in the case where one has voluntarily distanced himself from the community.

God's will (Mt 18:14)

Differently from Luke, who insists on God's mercy, Matthew places the accent on the duty of the Christian community to reflect God's concern for the one who has distanced himself, no matter how small and insignificant he may be. If God does not want the little ones to be lost the disciple too cannot allow it to happen. It does not matter what he wants, but what God wants: "it is the will of your Father". In imitation of God (Mt 5:48), he must act like him. For a brother no other brother is of so little worth that he can be ignored. In the Church no one can mean so little that his absence is not felt, if he distances himself from it.

The children imitate their father by showing interest in their wayward brother. This means that Jesus on the one hand, presupposes that his community sees those who don't care compared to those who are of less value; on the other hand, he makes God, his pastoral concern, the basis of the fraternal ethic, because it bases a norm for community living on divine behaviour: it has to be pastoral practice because it is the divine will. In the Christian community no one is lost because everyone in it counts for something, and first of all, the littlest ones. And if someone is lost, everyone goes out looking for him. And when they find him, they find a brother and rejoice. This is the Father's will.

[reminder of the spiritual work already indicated, cf. Day three. Presentation, p. 2].

That Joseph and mary lost Jesus as a teenager during their pilgrimage to Jerusalem was not due to their negligence but to Jesus' desire to be involved in matters belonging to his Father. Although not understanding it all, his parents brought Jesus back into the family and looked after him for around twenty years or so. Let us ask Mary to teach us to be concerned with our young people accompanying them in their growth “in wisdom, stature and favour before God and men” (Lk2:52).